What Partners are For
by EvergreenDreamweaver
Summary: SOMEBODY'S got a bad, bad cold!


Disclaimer: I do not own the Sentinel or any of the canon television characters, and am making no monies from this story. Any Original Characters belong to the author(s).

Note: This story was originally written around 2005.

 **WHAT PARTNERS ARE FOR**

by EvergreenDreamweaver

"Aaaa-CHOOOO!"

"Bless you."

"Thanks _." Sniff_. "'Scuse me." _Sniff._ "Ah-choo!"

"Bless you again. Here – Kleenex™?"

 _Wordless growl_ : "Thags."

"No problem."

 _Sounds of cautious nose-blowing, followed by a deep sigh_.

"Do be a favor?"

"What?"

"Shoot me?"

"Nah. Too much paperwork. And too much blood to clean up."

"PLEASE! I cad breathe! Id would be doing be a kindness."

"You don't really want me to shoot you."

"Id would put a hole in by head…baybe then I could ged sub air in!"

"You're getting air in. You're still able to talk."

"Hell, I'll do id byself!" _Footsteps._ "HEY! Where'd by gun go?"

"I put it away where you can't find it. I think you're delirious. C'mon, sit back down. Better yet, lie down. You sound awful and you look worse."

"If I cad use bine, I'll use YOURS….Whadthe….Where's your gun? Whad did you do with your gun?"

"You think I'm dumb enough to hide your gun and leave mine out? Now I'm insulted."

"Kill be, please. You're supposed to be by friend – put be out of by bisery!"

"I am your friend. Your absolutely best friend. Friends don't let friends kill themselves over a little head cold."

"Id's DOT a liddle head cold. I think id's the plague. I'm gonna die from it eddyway, why cad it just be a liddle sooner?"

 _Patiently:_ "You don't have the plague. You have a cold. It  is a bad cold, but you aren't going to die from it, and I'm NOT going to shoot you. What could I tell Simon? 'Well, Captain, you see, I shot my partner because he asked me to so nicely.'?"

"Nod asking. BEGGING!" _Sniffles and wheezing breaths_.

"Would you like me to make you some tea?"

"Doh, I dode want any damned tea!"

"Well excuse me for asking; usually you like it, you know."

"Yeah, well….I'b sorry…." _Pathetic sniffling noises._

"I know. I'm sorry you're so miserable, you know that."

"Please, can I have by gun?"

"No, and you can't have mine, either."

"If you catch this, I'll be nicer to YOU!"

"Oh? That's good to hear."

"Yes…I'll shoot you right away, first thing. I won't make you beg for it or anything. I'll put you out of your bisery righd away!"

 _Stunned silence._ "That's…really nice of you. I'm really touched, here."

 _Grumpily:_ "You oughda be. I wouldn't offer that to just eddyone, ya know."

"No, I'm sure you wouldn't. But Simon would be peeved. He doesn't like having to arrest people in the department."

"I've god a bedder idea. How about if you give be back by gun – I'll shood you first, and then shood byself? Nobody has to do baberwork that way."

"Simon would have to do it. He'd still be pissed. Besides, you're sick. What if you missed, or just wounded me? Or yourself?"

 _Thoughtful silence, punctuated by hacking coughs, sniffles, and much nose-blowing._

"Thad might nod be so good." _Hopefully:_ "I could just jump off the balcony!"

"It's only two stories. You probably couldn't kill yourself. You'd just damage something vital and be a paraplegic all your life, and I'd end up having to look after you."

"You are NOD HELPING!"

"Yes I am. I'm making you laugh, aren't I?"

"No….well, yeah. A liddle. I guess."

"Come on back and lie down again. You're gonna make your fever go up again, prowling around all over the place like that."

"Okay…."

"There. Better? Jeez, you're burning up – where's that bottle of Tylenol…?"

"I think id's all gone."

 _Muttered swearing and imprecations._ "Will you be all right for a little while if I go out and get some more?"

"No. I won't. I'b going to spend the whole tibe looking for by GUN!"

"C'mon now – don't be like that. Is there anything I could get you while I'm out, to make you feel better?"

 _Thoughtful silence._ "Ice creab?"

"We have ice cream – don't we? We DID have some."

 _Guilty silence._ "I – um – I ade id. While you were at the station." _Defensively:_ "Id felt good on by throat."

"Oh. Well, okay. Ice cream. What kind sounds good?"

"Cherry Garcia?"

"I see even a cold doesn't damp down your exotic tastes in ice cream."

"Well…you asked!"

"I asked, foolish me. Okay, Tylenol and Cherry Garcia. Anything else?"

"By gun. Just in case you don'd ged back soon enough. I might asphyxiate while you're gone, ya know."

 _Exasperation._ "Maybe I'll just shoot you and then go out and buy the ice cream and eat it all myself!"

 _Sigh. Sniffle. Cough._ "Sorry."

"Hey…stop looking so pathetic, huh? I'm not mad. Really – I'm not."

 _Cough. Sniffle. Hack._

"I think I'm going to call up the radio station and ask for a song to be played – only I want a parody. Instead of _Don't it Make My Brown Eyes Blue_ , it oughta be _Don't it Make My Blue Eyes RED_!"

"Now I AB going to shoot you. Just as soon as I find by gun!"

"If you shoot me now, you won't get any ice cream or Tylenol."

"Oh. Righd."

"Lie down; I'll be back in twenty minutes, tops. Here – cold cloth on your forehead."

 _Deep sigh._ "Thags."

"Any time. After all, that's what partners are for."

The End


End file.
